


Get Him to the Con

by arazialotis



Category: Actor RPF, Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazialotis/pseuds/arazialotis
Summary: The reader stumbles into Jensen at her favorite bar, a very drunk Jensen. She soon realizes Jensen was booked for a con this weekend and has to be eight hours from town in only two.





	Get Him to the Con

It was the first Saturday of the month; which for you meant it was pick up day at your favorite craft brewery. The skies were grey and cold as autumn rolled closer to winter. A light drizzle hung in the air. You drove into the dirt parking lot, which appeared on the outside more of a timeworn factory than a microbrewery. But once you stepped inside, the gloominess of the day disappeared.

The taproom was lined with fermenting barrels stacked to the ceiling and the dim lights illuminated the room like a fireplace in a dank study. Plants lined the floors and shelves and posters from a 1970s science class decorated the wall. Only a few seats were open at the bar and the leather couches were crowded leaving your only option to sit at the more spacious picnic tables. You reached for the nearest parchment. Several beers had already been crossed off the tasting menu no longer available. Regardless you quickly found the one you wanted to try. Recently they had been experimenting with tequila barrel aged sours and little else made you happier.

You quickly called Mitch over, the brew master, and opened a tab for your first round, planning to take your pre-ordered bottles home after a few samples. When Mitch brought your selection, you briefly discussed the subtle differences in the taste due to guava being used this round versus the pineapple of last month. But Mitch had other customers to serve and shoulders to rub so you sipped on your beer in solitude. That was, until a belch caught you off guard from down the bench.

You exchanged a quick look of concern with Mitch from across the bar who look more annoyed than anything else. You dared to turn a look down the bench to put a face to that atrocious sound. Your eyes widened and you choked on the beer when you recognized him. Jensen Ackles. You looked away to remember how to breath before stealing another glance. Yup, it was him alright. You looked back into you glass, your heart pounding contemplating if you should make a move. Though you tried, you couldn’t help but look again. He was waving his hand in the air signaling for another drink. Mitch passed you ensuring his sigh was audible for you to hear.

Mitch passed by you again, you grabbed his elbow stopping him. “Hey, is he here with anyone?” You whispered.

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “He showed up in a Uber about a hour ago.” He pinched his fingers together. “I am this close to kicking him out.”

“And how are you going to manage that?” You teased Mitch for his slim physique. “You ain’t got no bouncer.”

“I’m not above calling the police.” Mitch warned, having no idea who Jensen was.

Was he really that far gone? “He’s not doing any harm… Just let me talk to him.”

Mitch raised his eyebrows. “You talking to someone? Yeah, that’s something I’d pay to see.”

“Shut up.” You playfully swatted him before waltzing closer to the man of your dreams. You slid into the bench, almost touching him. His attention focused from his beer to you. Up close you could see the redness in his cheeks and a glaze over those starry green eyes. “Hey there.” You greeted him.

“Easy there tiger.” He purred.

You chuckled but couldn’t help a rising blush. He must be further gone than you initially thought. “You feeling good chief?”

“Now that you’ve…” He stopped, pounding a fist against his chest.

“Not that it’s any of my business, but what’s a guy like you doing in a town like this?” You asked.

“Research… for um… the place..” He stumbled.

“Family Business?” You clarified.

He snapped his fingers. “That’s it, that’s the one. Yeah, got sent up here to sample the competition.”

“Yeah, we do seem to have three new craft breweries popping up every season. This is my personal favorite.” You explained. “But no offense…” You watched him pound his next glass. “This is more for slow sipping than ah… getting hammered.”

“Snob.” He rolled his eyes.

“Excuse me?” You scoffed.

“You’re a beer snob.” He accused.

“Am not.” You argued.

“When’s the last time you had a Miller Lite?” He asked.

“Umm…” You anxiously gritted your teeth.

“Snob.” He repeated.

“Well, isn’t it kinda your side job to be a snob too?” You indicted.

“I just do the drinking…” He finished with a hiccup. “For the research.”

You laughed. “Good luck remembering each beer’s subtleties.”

“Remember… remember…. I’m supposed to remember something.” He grabbed another drink menu.

You thought about it. “Hey, wait a minute… don’t think this is creepy or anything… but isn’t there a con this weekend.”

“Hell yes!” He yelled. “Woo!”

The entire taproom was gazing at you. You met Mitch’s eyes. ‘Two minutes.’ He signaled to you.

“Okay, Jensen.” You took the menu from him and his eyes followed landing on your chest. You signaled for him to look up. He made eye contact and his riled up exterior melted into the cheesiest smile. “So, this um… again, I know this is weird, but I kinda follow you…”

“Wow…” He put his hands under his chin. “If I had known…”

“Hey! Back to the topic.” You snapped your fingers. “Don’t you have the Saturday night special or whatever it’s called in like two hours?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” He sipped on his empty glass. “I got a flight at 4:00.”

“Jensen! It’s 7:00 PM!” You stood up fishing for your keys. “Mitch! I’ll be back for the bottles, Tuesday okay.”

“Y/N, that’s against our policy.” Mitched warned, loud enough for the other patrons to hear.

You pulled on Jensen’s elbow. “I’m getting him outta here, aren’t I? Tuesday.” You demanded. Mitch rolled his eyes and eventually nodded his compliance.

“Mmm, where are you taking me so fast, darling?” Jensen slurred.

You patted his shoulder, but ignored his question. “So you got luggage or something?” You remembered Mitch mentioning he showed up in an Uber. “What hotel were you staying at?” You got him to your car and slide him into the passenger’s seat. He smuggly shrugged his shoulders. “Do you have a room key or something?” You asked impatiently.

“Want to get into my room eh?” He pulled out his wallet searching through it so slowly it was painful.

Had it been any other circumstance, you would have been on cloud nine. But you knew how expensive con tickets were. You knew hundreds of fans were relying on him to be there. It made your stomach twist with anxiety. For some reason you felt responsible to get him there, or at least to a flight. He finally handed you a room key. It was downtown but on the way to the airport. You floored it out of the brewery, weaving your way in and out of traffic as best as possible. Once you reached the towering hotel, you stole Jensen’s wallet taking his ID and room key and leaving him in the car. He protested at first but you found an old ‘Instyle’ magazine in your backseat and it seemed to keep him occupied.

You ran into the hotel, partially explaining the situation. Thankfully, he had initially checked out hours ago and his luggage was ready to go waiting behind the front desk. You politely tipped the bellboy who helped you shove everything into your back seat.

“Alright, let’s get you on a plane.” You pulled out of the hotel’s brick roundabout and made way for the airport.

Jensen still was flipping through the magazine. He held it up looking between it and you. “I don’t know why you aren’t in here.”

You burst out laughing. “Jesus! Are you always this big of a flirt?”

“You should see me when I’m trying.” He bragged.

“God bless the girls you actually try with then… bless them with prudence and clear heads.” You teased. He leaned over and smiled at you, cheeks still rosy from the alcohol. You cleared your throat. “So, um, I don’t think a flight will be able to get you on time tonight. But we should be able to find something for you to arrive by morning.”

Unfortunately, that was not the case. You had parked, managed to coerce Jensen into the airport, while handling his luggage. He was contently sitting at a bar in the lobby ordering some strong drink while you hashed it out with the airline.

“I’m sorry ma’am. The earliest I can get him to Nashville is 1:00 PM tomorrow afternoon.” She explained.

You rolled your eyes and pulled up the convention schedule. His first activity was scheduled at 10:00, and who knew if they went through prep or anything before then.

“There has to be a way.” You pleaded.

“Only a few more flights out tonight but those are all East Coast with no connectors, he’d just be rerouted to O’Hare in the morning, same time we could get him there.” She assured.

“Maybe, I’ll just head over to Delta.” You complained.

“You can try, but I have all rosters pulled up for this airport. He ain’t getting to O’hare or Atlanta before 11:00 am tomorrow morning. That’s just the best I can do.” She grew defensive.

“There has to be a way.” You begged. Maybe the con could adjust the schedule… You knew if he had any wits about him, he could schmooze his way outta this situation. You looked over to the makeshift bar in the lobby and he had just finished a shot. Even if you managed to get a flight, who knew if he would be able to navigate on his own.

“If you need to get there in the morning, I would suggest renting a car. Driving would be faster at this point.” She delicately suggested.

You sighed, achingly aware of the line growing behind you. “Okay, okay. Thank you for your time.”

“I’m sorry there’s nothing further we can do.” She apologize.

You nodded your head, understanding her situation but still frustrated. You made your way over to the bar. The bartender was making another drink.

“For the lady.” Jensen handed you the finished product.

“Aww, thank you. I’m flattered.” You pushed it aside. “But guess what?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head back and forth. “What?”

“We are going on a road trip!” You through your hands up in the air faking excitement.

“Woo!” He matched your excitement and stumbled out of the chair.

“Alright…” You wrapped his arm around your shoulder giving him support. “Come on big guy.”

You hobbled back to your car, practically carry both Jensen and his luggage. You started your car. Jensen started scanning the radio while you pulled up directions on your phone. You somehow were able to contain a whine, realizing your destination was eight hours away. You most likely wouldn’t arrive until 4:30 in the morning.

Jensen finally found a station he was satisfied with, classic rock, he shook his head and drummed his fingers on your dashboard. You pulled back out of the parking lot, headed to the highway. The seatbelt light started flashing and sounded an annoying ring. You looked down at your own belt and realized it was Jensen who still needed to buckle up. After three more rounds of beeping, he wasn’t taking the hint.

“So. Two rules for this road trip…” You started.

“Driver picks the music?” He interrupted.

You slightly chuckled. “No, I’ll let you have control over the tunes… but number one, seatbelt.” You pointed at him.

He snorted with arrogance but attempted to comply, fumbling with the belt. The fourth time the alarm frantically went off, you leaned over, steering with one hand, to help him click it in.

“Rule number one, check.” He signaled in the air. “Number two?”

“If you have to throw up, pee, or any other sort of bodily, fluidy function, please let me know so I can pull over to the side of the road.” You pleaded adjusting the heat.

He saluted you. “Will do, Captain.”

“Rule number three…” You started.

“You only said there were two.” He complained.

“You’re right, I did say that…” You smiled to yourself. “How about… request number one.”

“What can I do ya for?” Jensen seductively lowered his voice.

“I was thinking… maybe we should call your friends and tell them what’s going on…” You suggested.

He shimmed into the back of his seat, crossing his arms into a pout. “I don’t have any friends. Everyone is just a flake.”

“Even Jared? You guys seem so close.” You asked in shock.

“No, no, no. Jared is a brother.” Jensen clarified.

You finally pulled onto the highway and began the long journey ahead. “Ah. I see. Well, in that case maybe we should call your brother.”

Jensen scoffed. “It’s not like he’s my mom.”

“That’s not what…”

“And I don’t have a curfew.” He interrupted.

You rolled your eyes and whispered to yourself. “And apparently you revert to a teenager while intoxicated.” ‘

“What?” He asked hearing a whisper but not what you said.

“Oh, Zeppelin!” You diverted his attention turning up the radio a little louder.

“This is the best road trip ever!” He declared before strumming along with an air guitar. He glanced your way seeking approval.

The first half of the trip passed like this. Jensen was hilarious and you had to admit quite adorable. And when he wasn’t trying to be an obvious flirt, he was actually genuine and nice. You joked around, tried to keep things at a surface level, not wanting to feel like to were taking advantage of him by turning things deep and personal. If he ever ventured that way, you attempted to redirect or distract him. Even at your best efforts, he kept repeating a theme of loneliness and fake relationships, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

The clock was nearing 1:00 AM when you realized you needed fuel and something to help keep you awake. The rolling hills seemed to make the dark of the night deeper, more looming and your anxiety more heightened. Thankfully it wasn’t long before you found an exit with a 24 hour gas station.

The fluorescent lights gleamed white and buzzed in the silence. One or two other cars had stopped for fuel along their way. As gas pumped, you went inside stocking up on red bull along with sour, sweet, and salty treats praying they’d help you last a few more hours. Jensen snooped around the store as well, disappeared for a few minutes but then you caught glimpse of him heading back to the car.

After paying, you popped the red bull cap and started sipping. When you arrived back to your car it seemed Jensen was sipping on something too. You settled into the driver’s seat and arranged your drink and snacks. Jensen began giggling. Upon further inspection you realized his drink was a bottle of Black Label Whiskey.

You rolled your eyes. “God, did you steal that?!” Not recalling him going up to the counter.

“What? No… its from… my…” He pointed to the back seat.

You looked back to see his luggage flipped over with clothes pulled out and scattered. You sighed.

He forcefully reached across the car, bottle in hand. “You need this.”

You looked at him defeated. “If only.” He lightly shook it back and forth, attempting to entice you. You smiled sheepishly and took it from him. “Thank you.” He grinned satisfied at his generosity. Without taking a drink, you screwed the cap back on and put it in the back seat, hopefully out of his reach. You patted his shoulder. “Ready big boy?”

“Let’s get this road on the show.” He pointed forward. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

Only a few more miles had passed when Jensen’s phone started buzzing. He ignored it singing along to a new found oldies station. But you were itching with curiosity as to who was on the other line hoping you could explain he was on his way and hadn’t been kidnapped.

“Hey uh, you gonna grab that?” You promptly suggested.

“Pfft.” He waved it off.

“Oh my god!” You yelled.

“What? What?” He asked concerned.

“Wasn’t Clint Eastwood going to call?!” You asked with urgency attempting to trick him.

“Oh my god!” He matched your urgency and fumbled his phone. “Hello?”

“Jensen where the hell are you?” Jared asked from the other line.

“You’re not Cleastwood.” He mumbled disappointed.

“Hey who is that?” You pestered. “Can I talk to them?”

“Are you drunk?!” Jared accused simultaneously.

“Too many voices.” Jensen complained.

“I think that call is for me, can I take it please?” You begged.

“Jared doesn’t know you…” Jensen called your bluff this time.

“Who is with you?” Jared demanded.

“Dude… this super hot…” He looked at you trying to filter his words. “A really good friend.”

You couldn’t help but blush.

“Are you anywhere near Nashville? Cliff said you missed your flight and has no idea where you are!” Jared continued.

Jensen unintelligibly grumbled.

“Jared!” You called.

Jensen somehow managed to switch it to speaker.

“Jared.” You called again.

“Who is this?” He asked.

“The hot..” Jensen started.

“I’m a hired driver…” You lied.

“What?” Jared asked confused.

“Jensen did miss his flight, but the airport connected him to us as a flight wouldn’t reach Nashville by late afternoon.” You partially made up.

“So like an Uber.” Jared filled in.

“Yes, like a long distance Uber. He’ll be in Tennessee by tomorrow morning.” You assured.

“Thank god! Okay, what’s your phone number in case he passes out.” Jared asked.

You gave it to him and ended phone calls, thankfully it went over easier than you had built up in your mind somehow predicting this was going to lead with you up in jail.

Jensen stared you down. “Liar.”

You laughed. “Am not!”

“You are not an Uber driver.” He stated.

“You don’t know that.” You accused. “Besides I said like an Uber.”

“You’re a liar and no fun.” He pouted.

“What are you talking about?” You continued your focus on the road ahead.

“You haven’t even sung any songs with me.” He crossed his arms.

You noticed the beat in the background and turned it up. “Do you want to sing this one?”

He refused to reply.

You smiled and started softly. “Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing.” You nudged him. “But then I know it’s growing strong.” You grew a bit more confident thinking he wouldn’t even remember this in the morning. “Was in the spring…”

Jensen quietly joined. “The spring became the summer, who’d have believed you come along.”

“Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you!” You belted together laughing while pointing back and forth at each other. “Sweet Caroline. Da, da, da. Good times never seemed so good. So good! So good! So good!”

You both mumbled through the next verse not exactly sure of the lyrics until the chorus came out again. “One, touching one!” Jensen grabbed and held your hand in his. Not in a million years could you have imagined this happening. And even though he meant nothing by it, you couldn’t deny the butterflies floating around.

“Sweet Caroline. Good times never seemed so…” You realized you were singing on your own.

You looked to your right to see Jensen passed out in the seat next to you. You sighed and shimmied your hand out of his, turning the music down and switching to your bluetooth finding something more your style.

The remaining hours passed by slowly. The hills growing as was your tiredness. By the time you started seeing the signs for Tennessee your eyelids were drooping and it felt as if you were sneaking in microsecond naps. You continued to suck on sour patch kids and slap your cheek somehow managing to pull up to the convention center in one piece. It was just after 4:30. You brought in Jensen’s luggage, checked him in fibbing again that you were his personal assistant. After finally convincing the manager and dragging his luggage up to his room, resisting your own temptation to crash in his bed, you went back down for him.

Thankfully, in the wee hours of the morning, the lobby was quiet, vacant of any lurking fangirls . Jensen was still half asleep with his arm draped over your shoulder as you guided him upstairs. You got one foot in the door when you heard him start to gag.

“No, no, no!” You protested rushing him into the bathroom. You flipped the seat up with your foot with not one second to spare as the Johnnie Walker spilled out of him. You looked away and rubbed his shoulder. “There, there, it’s okay.” You tried to comfort him and yourself holding back your own gagging. A few moments passed and it seemed to have stopped. “You good?”

He nodded his head.

You slowly brought him to the sink, wetting a towel and rubbed it over his face, taking in each freckle as you did. You gave him a cup of water to swish and another to chug. His eyes remained closed and you led him to his bed. He laid down and proceed to let out a soft snore. You dug through your purse, leaving him a few Motrin pills and a filled glass of water on his nightstand.

Before you left you whispered to him in his sleep. “Thanks for a crazy and one of a kind night, maybe we’ll cross paths again.” Slightly giving into a guilty temptation and running your fingers through his hair.

You were in the elevator when you realized you had no idea what you were going to do yourself. There was no way you were in a condition to drive home. You argued with the desk manager about them being sold out, but quit quickly not having the energy to continue. They suggested a hotel down the road, but once you hit your car seat, you simply decided to crash in your backseat.

You closed your eyes, sleep starting to take you, when your ringtone jolted you awake.

“Who is this?” You hazily asked.

“Y/N, I need water….” Jensen moaned.

You whimpered, just wanting rest. “How did you get this number?”

“…Please…”

“There some on the nightstand.” You instructed.

“Not anymore.”

You sighed and felt your back pocket realizing you still had a key to his room.

“One second.” You obliged.

With a questioning look from the front desk you hauled back up to his room. He seemed passed out again but the water cup had knocked over to the floor. Before filling it, you washed water over your own face, hoping that you could make it downstairs without fainting from exhaustion.

You brought the glass back to the nightstand and turned to leave.

“Y/N.” Jensen whined.

“Jensen, please…” No matter how much you loved him, in that moment you loved the thought of sleep more.

He reached out for you. “Stay…”

You made the mistake of inching closer. “I can’t…” You knew he wasn’t in the right mind, that there was a twinge of guilt in your stomach for even driving him down here, for spending so much personal time with him already. “It’s not…”

He grabbed at your arm and pulled you down onto the bed with him. You couldn’t protest anymore. Your head sunk into the pillow and sleep hit you like a freight train.

Even though you had not had a drop the night before, you woke to pounding in your head and a pounding on the door. Jensen’s arm that wrapped around you quickly pulled away.

“What the hell? Who the hell?” He shockingly questioned.

You shot up out of his bed. “Oh god.” You looked at his face mixed with confusion and nausea.

“Jensen!” Jared called from the other side of the door.

“Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my bed?” Jensen demanded.

“We didn’t do anything, I swear, oh god, I’m so sorry.” You explained flustered.

“I’m not the kind of guy that just sleeps around.” He explained.

“No, I know… I um… shit… I’ll just go.” You rushed to leave.

Your face felt puffy from lack of sleep and tears threatened to spill over. You opened the door halting Jared from another knock. He stopped confused but you rushed past him not wanting to explain, fearing you may get in trouble taking advantage of Jensen’s altered state.

Jared entered Jensen’s room. “God, you look rough. Who was that?”

Jensen shrugged his shoulders and you overheard. “No idea.”

You rushed through the crowd of growing fangirls in the lobby and out to your car. You hit at the steering wheel. “Stupid, stupid!” You yelled at yourself, crying from embarrassment and exhaustion.

You still didn’t think you’d be up for an eight hour drive, all you wanted was a bed and to forget about this morning, only wanting to remember the song from last night. You wiped away at the tears and knew you could at least make it down the road and checked into another hotel, again crashing into the bed but this time weeping yourself to sleep.


End file.
